


Stitched Back Together

by Miss_Amby



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Nightmare Before Christmas Fusion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Horror, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27315472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Amby/pseuds/Miss_Amby
Summary: An AU of an AU for "Sit Together, Now & Forever".  What if the Angels had carried out with their threat on Aziraphale when he sneaking out and drugging them became too much.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First off, thank you ladydragona and SylviaW1991 for letting me play in the universe you have created. By the end of the first chapter of “Sit Together, Now and Forever” I had this idea in mind and it kept growing as you posted more chapters. By the time chapter 7 was posted and as readers we learned more about how the Angels treated Aziraphale what my brain had come up with didn’t seem that far fetched. This was suppose to be about a 1,000 word story and is now growing. It should be at least three chapters.
> 
> Basically this is an AU after chapter one of their story, if Crowley didn’t try to do Christmas and they kept meeting in secret and the Angels were just done with Aziraphale.
> 
> BODY HORROR IS A THING FOR THIS, MORE SO THAN THE MOVIE

Based off of "[Sit Together, Now & Forever](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27030310/chapters/65989303)" by ladydragona and SylviaW1991. Go and read that first before this!

* * *

_ No, no! _

_ It shouldn’t hurt! _

_ Why does it hurt! _

_ Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop! _

* * *

It was Adam and the Them that found him. They were going through the junkyard, the best place to play and fine items for Wensleydale when they found the first few pieces.

It was just cloth, cream and brown and they all agreed that Crowley would like to have it for Aziraphale. They all knew that the patchwork man and Crowley were friends, even if they didn’t tell anyone else. They figured Crowley would give them some sort of reward for finding it and everyone would be happy.

They weren’t expecting to find a cloth hand with a ring on it close to the bundle of fabric, and to recognize whose it was.

“That can’t be…”

“Maybe he made a new one? Hands would be a body part that would wear out sooner than others if skin wasn’t always regrowing itself.”

“Stupid, it’s a magic hand, it wouldn’t wear out.”

“Everyone just start looking! See if there is anything else. Pepper, you go and get Crowley, bring him here.”

She didn’t think twice, just took off running toward the pumpkin king’s home as fast as she could as the rest kept looking through the trash.

By the time she got there with Crowley it didn’t look good.

They had found more.

The rest of the arm, a leg, a lot of feathers, wood wool and his shirt. The fabric bundle had been his coat once they uncovered it and shook it out. There was too much for this to be a repair of worn out limbs. 

“Kids, keep quiet about this for right now. Don’t...don’t let anyone else know unless you check with me first. Adam, Brian, you keep looking. Wensleydale and Pepper, grab something and come with me. We’ll take the parts to my place and then come back here with something bigger to carry things in.

Any mirth that came with helping Crowley with tasks was gone as they grabbed what they could carry and followed him home, taking a back way so no one in town would see them. They were surprised when Crowley started laying the body parts out on his own bed, placing them down gently before having the kids grab the wheelbarrow and head back to the junkyard.

When they got back Adam and Brian had found the rest of his arms and legs, but nothing else. 

It was more than enough for Crowley to go and sneak into the Angel’s home though. The kids were eager to help, willing to make a distraction outside to drag the snobs out, leaving Crowley to lurk around in the shadows and make his way through their estate.

It didn’t look quite the same as it had the last time he was there, back in the early days of him being king. There was a layer of dust to everything and the floor was covered in a fine layer of ash. Cobwebs, thicker than what he had seen in the past were clinging to every corner.

He was quick to slither through the silent hallways before stumbling into Micheal’s laboratory. 

What he saw in there made him feel sick.

Aziraphale’s head was in a jar just...floating on the workbench. Wisps of hair were surrounding him like a halo, but it was the eyes and neck that scared Crowley the most.

His neck looked like it had been pulled off. He had seen Aziraphale have a loose thread in his neck before, hell he had helped the rag doll fix the damage. This time it was jagged with broken seams and ripped fabric.

But dear lord the eyes, his eyes. Crowley had seen them so many different ways. Annoyed, worried, joyful and everything in between. This time though, this time they were full of horror. Whatever had happened, Aziraphale knew what was going on and had been in pain for it. 

Carefully he picked up the jar and turned to leave. Somehow it was easier to sneak out than it had been to sneak in but really Crowley didn’t care. He just wanted to get Aziraphale to safety. 

Soon they were back at his home. He placed the jar on the dining room table and pressed a hand to the glass gently before giving a sigh and gathering Aziraphale’s sewing supplies to head into the bedroom.

“You know, this isn’t how I thought this would go. I thought...well I figured someday you’d end up spending the night. We get drunk how often? I figured I would lie like crazy to the wingwankers if they came asking for you, giving you a change to sneak back to where you needed to be.” Crowley threaded the needle cut off the bit he wanted, doubling the thread back before tying the knot. He’d helped Aziraphale enough patching him in the odd places he couldn’t reach that his stitching was pretty good now. 

“Not this way though, never like this. This, this should never have happened to you.” He sighed before continuing, “I know you think you owe them something, that you have to stay with them but after this...you’re not going back. If you don’t want to stay with me then we’ll figure something out but you aren’t going back there ever again.”

He started with his hands, checking his fingers for holes before attaching them back to the arms. It hadn’t even torn at the wrist; it was like something else had caused it to tear mid arm. Aziraphale would have a new set of stitches, dark like Indian ink against his pale fabric. 

Slowly Crowley worked, talking to himself as he put his friend back together. It was odd to see his body without any clothes. He wasn’t quite the right shape. Despite the Them going over every inch of the junkyard they weren’t able to find anymore stuffing and feathers. Crowley did his best but he knew the clothes they had wouldn’t fit him quite right. Instead he threw a sheet over him, but that seemed wrong too.

During the whole time Crowley kept talking to him, telling him stories and secrets and gossip. Really the Pumpkin King was trying to do his best from breaking down. 

* * *

A few days passed before there was a banging on the door, the type that rattled the windows in the panes and would scare a normal person. Crowley stood up and went to answer it, not surprised to see Tracy there.

“Hello luv. We’re starting to get worried. And by we I mean Shadwell is worried about next Halloween but I’m worried about you. It’s not like you to keep cooped up like this for so long."

He didn’t say anything, just dragged a hand over his face before standing off to the side and allowing her to enter. 

“Crowley...what’s going on?” 

There were papers everywhere, taking up every surface they could find. The only place that wasn’t covered in books or papers was his study. That room was a mess, with the floor covered in boxes and old trophies. This mess seemed more in line with Crowley, not the one in the rest of the house. She was surprised when Crowley grabbed her hand and dragged her into the bedroom.

She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her as she saw the headless body on the bed, a clean sheet draped over it from the chest down. The witch also couldn’t help the cry that came out when she saw Aziraphale’s head on the bedside table, looking at them with wide eyes.

“The kids...they found his body. Just...tossed out like trash! Aziraphale! Just… well I’m going to assume because he wasn’t what they wanted. Heaven forbid they just, I don’t know let him go! And and and!” He was manic now, pacing the room without rhyme or reason. Tracy grabbed his hand to stop him.

“I can’t figure out how to bring him back! I don’t...I can’t…” And then he fell to the ground, sobbing big, ugly tears.

Tracy looked at the body again before sitting down on the floor beside Crowley, wrapping her arms around him as he sobbed. It took awhile but he finally stopped crying, taking the handkerchief from her hand and cleaning his face before saying anything.

“Now dear this is what we’re going to do. I’m going to look at what you’ve gotten so far and see if I can’t help. You are going to my place and you’re going to get cleaned up and sleep. And you’re not going to argue with me about it. You’ve been at this for awhile on your own. Let us help you.” She took his gentle nod to mean he was more tired than he looked as he gave Aziraphale a soft look before he stood up, wobbling slightly, before walking out the door to Tracy’s home.

The witch didn't waste any time going over what Crowley had done. It was...jarring to go over Aziraphale’s body. She had seen him lose a hand before and how it moved on its own but this…

This reminded her of just a doll. Not moving, not doing anything. When she had seen the patchwork man he was always moving in some way, whether fretting with his hands or moving silently from Crowley’s home back to his own. Now it was just an empty shell of fabric and stuffing on the bed. 

“Well poppet, it looks like our king is better with a needle and thread than I thought. I bet it’s because of you he is. Don’t worry, we’ll get you back together as soon as we can.” She covered him back up with the sheet and went over to the scattering of books.

He seemed to have gathered every book and paper he could on reanimated figures. The most common type in Halloween Town were reanimated corpses. Aziraphale was a sort of mystery, an oddity even for the town itself when he first came to life. He wasn’t ever seen much, except if the Angels sent him to pick something up or sneak out to see Crowley during the night, at least according to Anathema and Newt.

She had asked them first before heading over and they were quick to fill her in on what they did know. That Crowley hadn’t left in a week and Aziraphale hadn’t snuck over for at least two. 

Now she could see why. She took a deep breath and dug into the books he had out, looking over everything he had written as well.

“That dear boy...he’s pushing himself too hard and outside his wheelhouse.” It didn’t take long for her to enchant a note and fold it into a bird with directions to go to Anathema and have her bring her spell books along.

When the doorbell went off she let the younger witch in and quickly filled her in on the situation. With a quick glance at Aziraphale’s prone body she was quick to agree to help.

A few hours later Crowley came back but stopped short when he saw how the two women had organized his home. Everything in the main room was organized chaos and Anathema was doing something in the kitchen that smelled...nice.

“Ducky! There you are! How are you feeling, any better?” Tracy pulled him into a hug before handing him a mug of cider. “Sit, sit, we have a lot to tell you.”

He let himself be guided over to his chair before sitting down, which gave the illusion that Tracy was towering over him. 

“Now then first off, we have a plan. You got a lot of good things, but you were missing what Anathema had in her books. We think we have a to help him. Aziraphale isn’t someone we’re bringing back from square one; we really just need to remind his head that he has a body to go with it. You did a good job stitching him back together.”

“GET TO THE POINT!” Crowley jumped at Anathema’s voice before frowning at the witch. Tracy sighed before starting again.

“We...you know how material will change shape as it dries? Before we can reattach his head it...well we need to let him...dry out.”

His mind flashed to the shrunken heads he’d seen around town, the flesh tight around the bone. It made his stomach churn to think of his friend like that.

“I...well we think that he can’t do anything until he’s fully back together. So we have to get his head back on first.”

“But...his hands and feet can move on their own.” He said it quieter than what he meant and Tracy could hear the concern in his voice.

“I’d imagine it’s different when it's the head. And...well whatever those Angels did...it was harsh and cruel. We’ll do our best.”

She waited patiently, the only sounds in the home being Anathema moving in the kitchen and Crowley taking a long drink of his cider.

“I...be careful. Please. He’s...he’s the only friend I really have.” His voice was softer than a whisper and Tracy couldn’t help but pull him into a hug, not caring that the warm drink sloshed onto her robe. He didn’t pull away from her and they hugged for some time before she pulled away.

“First thing first then. We need a place to set him while he dries. And not too close to a fireplace, we don’t want the heat to be too much.”

In a flurry of movement he found two shallow dishes; to place him in and one to hold the liquid from the jar. They didn’t even have a hole or rust in it! Crowley followed Tracy’s lead and they carefully removed the lid from the jar.

“Well, that smells answers one question. There has to be some kind of organ in there.” Crowley nodded at her statement, “He has a brain. He told me once.”

“Well, that’s something for Anathema and I to keep in mind while we work. For now though you hold him in place and I’ll drain the liquid.” 

With gentle hands Crowley held Aziraphale in place as Tracy delicately tipped the jar, letting the alcohol mixture drain out. Once it was low enough Crowley was able to pull the head out and place it on the other dish.

“Now you’ll need to change the dishes out every so often so the liquid that’s there won’t absorb back into him” Tracy opened the window and threw out what was left in the jar before picking up and throwing out what was in the dish. “You’re lucky it’s not just water or some sort of slime; he’ll dry out quicker with whatever that was.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she walked the dishes to the kitchen. “Anathema and I will keep researching; we can’t do anything else for a couple of days. She’s made you some stew; you still need to eat dear. Aziraphale won’t be happy when he wakes up and you’ve worked yourself into being sick.” When she came back in she patted his cheek. “Wash up, have dinner, get some sleep.”

He gave her a lopsided grin, “Witch’s orders?”

“No, a friend’s. I’ll come by tomorrow evening to check on you.” 

Tracy left first, with Anathema following close behind. Crowley was left in his quiet home, by himself but not quite. He did as Tracey asked, washing the smell from his skin before quickly eating what Anathema had made. 

When he walked back into the bedroom he looked at Aziraphale’s head, eyes still opened in terror. Carefully he closed his eyes, making it look like he was resting before shifting into a snake and curling up at the end of the bed.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The full repairs start.

Crowley woke when the sun was about at noon, with a few dregs of fog left outside. He shifted with a stretch, arms reaching as high as he could get them before placing a hand on Aziraphale’s head. He drained the extra liquid that had collected in the dish before picking it up and carrying the patchwork man’s head around with him like a waiter at a fancy restaurant. 

First stop was the kitchen, where the pumpkin king grabbed a mealy apple before walking into the study. He placed Aziraphale on a table by the door before looking at everything and taking a deep breath.

“What do you think Aziraphale? A few shelves for books and a bed and it could be…”

Crowley had wanted to say ‘home’. After everything that had gone on he wanted to have Aziraphale stay with him, keep him safe from the Angels with all the books and wine he could ask for.

For now he could clear out the room; add in a bed for the patchwork man and a desk for sketching; get books to help fill in the bookshelf so he would have something to read.

Some things were already gathered to be put away. He needed room for his new trophies and had started to reorganize the room before everything had happened. There were a couple half-full boxes on the ground and now he started working in earnest to fill them up, doing his best to fill them up as much as he could so the most would fit.

By the time Tracy knocked on his door the room was empty of awards and the bookshelf was cleaned off and filled with the books Crowley could find that weren’t in use. Now all the room needed was a bed and it would be functional.

“Well look at that. It’s looking very put together.” She placed her basket down and went over to Aziraphale’s head. The witch gently picked him up, looking over him carefully before placing him back down. “I’d say tomorrow night or the next day we should be able to stitch him back together. Now what’s all this you’ve been working on?”

“I...he’s not going back. He can’t. So he’ll need a place to stay. I’m the only one in town he knows so…”

Tracy sighed before patting Crowley on the shoulder, “The Angels did a good job keeping him away from everyone. Once he’s up and about again though I’m sure he’s going to have a lot of people wanting to get to know him. Speaking of, the Them are getting restless. They wanted to come by and visit but I threatened to turn them into frogs for a day if they did.”

The Pumpkin King gave a weak laugh as he moved into the kitchen, Tracy following behind him. He poured them both a glass of wine, “Thanks for that. I...tell them they can come by in a couple of days. Oh and if they could search around for a bed and desk that would be good.”

The smile that Tracy gave him could have lit up a bonfire, “I can do that dear.”

They drank and visited about Halloween Town for a bit before Tracy left. Once she was gone Crowley sighed and put the dishes away, going back to what was going to be Aziraphale’s room. He tidied up the last box for the night before picking up Aziraphale’s head and going back to the bedroom. 

Crowley wouldn’t admit to anyone that he pressed a kiss to his friend’s forehead before shifting and going to sleep.

The next brought more of the same. Crowley finished the room, with everything in place except for the furniture. He had sheets, clean and with mended patches, waiting on a free space on the bookshelf for when the bed got in.

Until then the Pumpkin King fretted, pacing around his home and double (or triple) checking everything. Aziraphale’s head was finally dry, and the needle and thread were ready. Extra cloth sat to the side in case it was needed. The rest of his body was stitched with no unraveling bits, and the candles had been lit so there would be enough light to see as they worked.

At 6 o’clock sharp Anathema and Tracy knocked on the door and Crowley let them in. They were quiet; they knew what they needed to do.

Anathama’s book reading told them that, in theory, they just needed to reattach his head and he should come back to life. Tracy’s card reading said it would all work out. 

The trio only spoke when needed and an eerie silence graced the room. Tracy was in charge of holding Aziraphale’s body up, while Anathema held his head in place. Crowley, as the person who helped repair Aziraphale the most often would be in charge of sewing his head back on. 

Carefully Crowley lifted his body, allowing Tracy to get behind the patchwork man. She got in place, holding her arms out to catch Aziraphale as Crowley placed him in her grasp. Once she was settled Anathema picked up the head and put it into position, while Crowley picked up the needle and thread.

From experience it was important to get the knot right. Too small and it would go through and he would have to try again, or worse, it would pop out during wear and tear. Too large and it might be lumpy for Aziraphale later. Crowley wasn’t sure if that could be a problem, but he didn’t want it to be one. 

Anathema was standing on Aziraphale’s left, with Crowley starting on his right. Slowly he put the first few stitches in before pulling on the thread, tucking in the ends of the fabric for a cleaner look. Once the thread was pulled tight it was a repetitive pattern.

Do a few stitches, tuck in the fabric, pull. Do a few stitches, tuck in the fabric, pull. Do a few stitches, tuck in the fabric, pull, shuffle around on the bed to get a better angle. 

When he got to where Anathema was at it took some finagling but she moved around so Crowley could keep working. Soon most of his head was attached, with the only part left the back of his neck.

Crowley stuck the needle and thread behind Aziraphale’s ear before holding him up so Tracy could get out from under him. After moving around after sitting for so long she sat down in front of him before taking hold again.

Just a few more inches and Aziraphale would be in one piece again.

Stitch, pull.

Stitch, pull.

Stitch, pull.

“Final one ladies.” Crowley finished the final stitch, cutting the thread and tucking the knot in so it wouldn’t show. “There. All back in one piece.” He moved out from behind him and lowered him down as Tracy and Anathema pulled a quilt up over him.

“We’ll take our leave now. The book says he should wake up on his own since he was magicked already once, but let us know if he’s not up within the week. We’ll need to get the necromancer if he doesn’t wake up and if that doesn’t work we’ll have to get the Angels.” The witches gave him a hug before they left, leaving the Pumpkin King with his friend.

“Well, just us now.” He picked up the supplies and put them away before shifting and coiling up on the bed. He didn’t care now if some of his body laid on his friend, maybe the touch would bring him comfort and wake him up sooner.

Time would only tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you ladydragona and SylviaW1991 for letting me play in your universe.
> 
> Second, there is one more chapter for sure. I'm currently unsure if there will be an epilogue or not, but the next chapter will be posted next week.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and I hope you're still enjoying it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aziraphale wakes up and Crowley learns what happened.

_ “You aren’t needed anymore.” _

_ “Too much of a hassle.” _

_ “Screaming won’t do any good.” _

_ Painpainpainpainpain _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He woke up with a gasp and tried to sit up but couldn’t. There was something long and black and scaley covering him, the coils of the thing pinning him in place. 

Aziraphale tried moving his neck and hissed when a spark of pain went through him. That wasn’t normal, wasn’t right for him. He settled back down, letting the ache settle out as he looked around the room. 

The patchwork man wasn’t sure where he was, but he had a guess. The bed was luxurious, the sheets fine with no holes and the pillows were just right. The frame had dark curtains along the side, with snakes rising up to the top.

Looking down showed a familiar looking serpent, still asleep on top of him. Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile at his friend.

“Crowley…” his voice didn’t sound like his own, harsh and tired and nothing like it’s normal pitch. It was enough though, and the serpent started moving around, uncoiling before it shifted into the Pumpkin King.

He looked a fright, and not the good kind. His suit was wrinkled and there were dark shadows under his eyes. His normally, artistically styled messy hair was now just messy from not taking care of it.

“Angel. Thank everything that you woke up. How do you feel?” His voice sounded off too, but Aziraphale couldn’t tell how it sounded off, just that he hadn’t heard his friend sound like that before.

“Sore? I think that’s the word. I feel...like things hurt? It’s hard to explain, I haven’t felt pain before, or at least not like this. I tried to set up earlier and couldn’t.”

“That sounds about right. We...the Them found you and got me. Tracy, Anathema and I did our best to repair you. We didn’t know if you would wake up.”

Aziraphale’s breath hitched in his throat. “Where...where was I?”

“I’ll...I’ll tell you later. You’re tired and I need...time to figure out how to explain without wanting to murder someone. Go back to sleep, you’ll feel better later. I won’t be far.”

He sighed, “Ok dear, but you can’t mollycoddle me forever. You will have to tell me.” As he closed his eyes he felt Crowley pat his hand over the covers. 

“I know Angel, I know.”

* * *

The next time he woke up he felt a lot better but it still took most of his energy to sit up. His arms felt heavy and every motion hurt in a way that wasn’t familiar to him.

“You’re up!” Crowley was then by his side, helping him up and leaning him against the headboard, pulling the quilt up around him. “Don’t move too much just yet. How are you feeling?”

“Sore, confused...peckish?” Crowley nodded and gave a chuckle at Aziraphale’s assessment. 

“Sounds about right. I’ll be right back with some tea.” He gave the patchwork man’s hand a pat before leaving. He heard him moving around in the kitchen, the kettle going off and a light curse before Crowley walked back in with two tea cups in hand.

“Here. I couldn’t find your normal blend and I haven’t been going out so you’ll have to settle for Earl Grey.” Taking a sip it was just the right amount of over seeped and too hot, making it perfect even if it wasn’t his normal cinnamon tea.

They sat in silence for a bit before Aziraphale spoke. “They...grabbed me from the window. Caught me just before I jumped. I don’t think it would have mattered this time though, Micheal was already waiting for us in their lab. I tried to run but the way they were holding me...well I learned it does hurt a bit when I rip not at the seams.” He paused for a second, took a large gulp of tea before continuing. “You were right dear. They didn’t care about me, never did. Said I was a waste of space and materials, that they would do better the next time. Use their own organs instead of some soft book seller’s brain found in the rubbish. I...I think I know what real pain is now.”

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. They sat in silence and drank their tea until their cups were empty. Then he spoke again. “They...they ripped my head off. It...I don’t recommend the experience. I don’t want to feel anything like that ever again.” Aziraphale didn’t notice the tears starting to roll down his face, soaking the fabric skin. “They never cared about me. Everything they did to me; I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He gave another choked sob, “You know, they pulled my voice box out once. Didn’t like something that I said and just cut it out of me! Take a leg or an arm if they didn’t like something I did or if I got my work done ‘too quickly’. This though…” He didn’t notice that Crowley had moved until he was wrapped up in his arms, crying into his friend’s shoulder.

They sat like that for a while, Aziraphale wrapped up in Crowley’s arms as he let out all the pain and frustration he was holding onto. He hadn’t even realized how much he was carrying; the weight of always being a disappointment seemed normal until it wasn’t.

Until they took him apart, piece by piece and ripped his head off.

“The Them found you. They were looking for neat things in the junkyard.” Crowley snorted “I haven’t seen Pepper run that fast before. She came up, didn’t even catch her breath before she was grabbing my hand and hauling me toward her friends, blathering on about finding your hand. When we got there they had found more. I helped them search and we gathered up everything we could find and brought you to my place.” He paused for a second, taking a breath before continuing. “I sent them home afterwards. I...we didn’t find all your stuffing and feathers, but I’ll get you more sometime. I sewed you back together but...well.”

“Just tell me my dear.”

“Your head wasn’t with the rest of you. The kids distracted the Angels so I could seek in and...I found your head.”

Aziraphale decided this must be what losing the blood from your face must feel like, an overwhelming sense of sudden cold with a clammy feeling to go with it. “My head…”

“Micheal...it was in a jar. And your eyes...they were still open. I’ve seen terror and horror in eyes before, but never like this.”

“Oh my dear…”

“Nope! No taking pity on me. You need it.” He paused and took a breath before continuing. “I spent the next few days stitching you back together, but I didn’t know how to safely put your head back on. Then Tracy came over and she dragged Anathema along and we spent an evening getting your head reattached. That was three days ago. If you hadn’t woken up we were going to get the necromancers involved.”

Telling the story seemed to lift a weight from Crowley and soon he was crying, trying to squeeze Aziraphale as tightly as he could as tears poured down his face. 

“It’s ok dear, it’s ok. I’m ok. You took good care of me, the best I’ve ever had. And I’m not going back to them.”

Crowley rubbed his face into his sleeve, “Good, wasn’t going to let you anyway. I..while you were out I’ve been cleaning...you can stay here, if you like.”

Aziraphale smiled and it filled Crowley with joy. “I would like that, I would like that a lot.”

They didn’t move the rest of the night. They moved in the morning, when Aziraphale finally felt like he was ready to shuffle to the den to his normal chair. He didn’t know that Crowley’s face could turn quite that red when the quilt slid off and he realized he wasn’t dressed.

It was a pleasant surprise though, because it led to Crowley stammering out something, one of the things being “I love you” which filled Aziraphale with such joy he just had to kiss the Pumpkin King then and there.

The room Crowley cleaned out ended up being a library/craft room with more shelves on the walls filled with any and all books they could get ahold of. There were bolts of fabric and baskets filled with scraps sorted by type. One shelf held four dolls that were always filled with pins that looked very similar to four beings neither wanted to see again.

There was tea in the morning and wine at night and laughter and joy all the time. It was everything both had ever wanted and thought they could never have. It was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I don't own anything.
> 
> Just the epilogue left!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

The Angels didn’t understand what was going on. For the past few days every time one of them went to try and buy items in town they were always told they were sold out, the order wasn’t in yet or they weren’t selling it anymore. 

It didn’t make any sense!

They were the Angels! They were older than the town itself. Gabriel had once been Pumpkin King! They were due to have respect!

It was Micheal that figured it out. They were out trying to buy supplies for their new project when they heard voices.

“You know they can’t keep it up forever Crowley.”

“I didn’t tell them to do it. Halloween Town takes care of their own. Once you started talking about what had happened to you they did the rest. Yeah, we’re full of people who aren’t always the best but we have standards. Destroying someone because you aren’t what they wanted was going too far. Maybe someday they’ll stop freezing them out but it could be awhile. Yes, they are old and powerful but they can’t control the town.”

“But Crowley…”

“No, no buts! Everything is fine. You’re ok and we’re together and everything worked out. The less time focused on them the better.”

Micheal had heard enough. They were willing to concede to the point that maybe, maybe, things with Aziraphale could have been handled differently. 

Well, that was something to remember for next time. For now there was planning and preparations to make for their new servant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other than this work, I own nothing. 
> 
> Once again, thank you ladydragona and SylviaW1991 for letting me play in your universe. I had a lot of fun writing this!

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing this is based off of.


End file.
